


Bird Watching

by Numbus26



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23138833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Numbus26/pseuds/Numbus26
Summary: “Well, I don’t know about that.” Byleth let out a long-held breath, looking out at the sun as it fell beneath the horizon. Not quite a sigh, but not far from one. “How about this. If I’m a hawk, then you’re a dove.” They could believe in each other’s better halves.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 34





	Bird Watching

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one shot of an idea that I thought was cute. Hope you enjoy it.

Wings flapped overhead as birds flew about the exterior of the cathedral, a comforting sight to Marianne. She liked coming out here, after she was done praying, and watching the birds. She had always felt comfortable around animals, much more so than people.  
She was content to simply feed the sparrows and pigeons, however. Gazing skyward wasn’t for her, after all. Even if she did sometimes dream… no. It was better for her to remain on the ground.

Suddenly, the birds at her feet took off, causing the timid mage to let out a yelp, jumping back. Without meaning to, she felt herself press against somebody standing behind her—she hadn’t noticed his approach.  
“I’m so sorry—” she started, turning to face the solid wall she had fallen against.  
“Bird watching again?” her professor asked, brushing off her halfhearted apology.  
“Ah! Professor. I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I’ll—”  
“I don’t mind.” He stepped aside, looking over the short wall. Though she saw his gaze stray towards the Goddess Tower behind them for a moment. Maybe he was considering the legend she’d heard recently, about the ball this month? “I saw you and wondered what you were up to.” The professor… she still didn’t entirely know what to think of him. At least he was quiet—the other day, Raphael had heard her chatting with a bird and… well, that hadn’t gone well.  
“Oh. I’m, uh, yes. Just bird watching.” He nodded, looking out over the forests below the church. Marianne stood there awkwardly for a few minutes, waiting for the professor to speak.

“It’s relaxing." She jumped, caught off guard by the professor's words. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”  
“No, I just… you surprised me. Um, was that all you wanted?” He blinked, seeming confused.  
“Hm? If I wanted anything, it was just to join you for a moment. If you’d rather I leave, then I can.” You could never tell how the professor felt—his expression was always neutral, as if he’d never learned how to smile or frown. And his voice was much the same. Still, she thought she sensed a bit of sadness in his tone.  
“Oh, no. If anything, I should go. I’d just disturb you, and—”  
“You don’t have to. I’d rather you stayed, actually. I’m not very good at telling which birds are which.” She didn't quite understand why he needed to know that, exactly, but…  
“O-oh. Um, okay. I can do that.” She could try, at least. Though she did wonder if he didn’t have anything more important to do.  
“Thank you. Then… what’s that one?” he asked, pointing at one of the birds perched on the top of the gate.

Once he had finally run out of questions, they’d gone back to watching the birds in silence. Eventually, the pigeons she’d been feeding returned, tentatively, a bit frightened of the tall man dressed all in black. Still, she beckoned them over with a bit of seed, and they came eventually. It was kind of funny to watch the professor gaze at her with what felt like a sense of awe as she was able to feed the birds from her cupped hand. Despite the professor’s best efforts, he didn’t seem to be able to do the same.

The setting sun had painted the sky orange by the time he rose again. He didn’t regret spending his rare free time in moments like these—even if Sothis sometimes complained. 

“Can I ask you a different question?”  
“W-what is it?” She glanced up at him through her bangs, still seeming nervous.  
“Why do you like doing this? Watching birds, I mean.” Marianne blinked, a bit shocked by the question.  
“Oh. Uhm…” She trailed off, staring at the ground. “I’m just… more comfortable around animals than people.”  
“Ah.” That made sense, he supposed. She had always been the first to—well, okay. She didn’t volunteer for work in the stables, but she was certainly the most effective at it.  
“And… sometimes I like to imagine what it’s like.”  
“Hm?”  
“To be a bird. I think flying would be nice.”  
“You mean on the back of a pegasus?” He could arrange a shift for her on the sky watch, if she wanted.  
“N-no. Well, kind of, I suppose. I just think it would be nice, being free to fly like that.” He couldn’t really imagine it that well. Creativity had never been his strong suit.  
“Well, if you were a bird, what kind of bird would you be?” Maybe that would help him see it.  
“Oh… I don’t know,” she sighed. “Probably a pigeon, or something. They’re common, and no one really pays attention to them.”  
“Hm.” He hadn’t really expected that. “I don’t know about that. I think you’d be…” He scanned the skyline again, trying to remember the one he had in mind. “I think you’d be a dove. They’re peaceful, and associated with peace and healing.”  
“R-really?” He had a hard time seeing through her bangs, but he thought she might be blushing, though he didn't think that his words would've caused that much embarrassment.  
“Yes,” he nodded. She was far too hard on herself—she was by far the most skilled at white magic in the class, even ahead of Lysithea. "I think that it fits you quite well."  
“I, well… what kind of bird do you think _you_ would be, Professor?” A rather clumsy subject change, but if it made her more comfortable, he'd go with it.  
“A crow,” he stated. “They’re all black, commonly sighted on battlefields, and people think they’re strange or ominous.” He felt that description fit him to a tee.  
“O-oh.” Marianne smoothed her skirt, staring down at her lap. She seemed to resolve herself before raising her head to speak again. “Um, if you’re going to say I’m a dove, then… I think you’re more like a hawk.”  
“Is that so? How do you think?” He was willing to accept her judgement—she was much more knowledgeable about this, after all.  
“Well, um. Hawks are strong, and they’re good at hunting down their prey, like you.” He supposed if one classified the enemies they fought as prey, that made sense. “And… nevermind.”  
“Well, I don’t know about that.” Byleth let out a long-held breath, looking out at the sun as it fell beneath the horizon. Not quite a sigh, but not far from one. “How about this. If I’m a hawk, then you’re a dove.” They could believe in each other’s better halves.  
“I… okay. I—I can do that.” He turned back to face her, and was shocked to see her smiling. That was another way she was like a dove, he supposed. They were both beautiful.

Marianne stood at the door of the cathedral, looking out at the bridge. There were a surprising amount of good memories for her here, ever since that day. It was nice, being able to paint over the bad with the good.

She jumped a bit as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her sides from behind. He was always good at surprising her.  
“What are you doing, dove?” the former professor whispered. She leaned back into him. Even five years later, his eyes always drew hers upwards, gentle encouragement to make her look forward instead of staring at her feet.  
“Just reminiscing.”  
“Mm. About what?”  
“Do you remember the time we were bird watching out here?” She felt the ring on his finger as she lay her hands atop his. It still brought a smile to her face every time she saw it. They weren’t married yet—there was still a war on, after all. But remembering their engagement still made her heart soar.  
“You’ll have to be more specific,” he chuckled.  
“The first time,” she sighed. She very much hoped he would remember that.  
“Oh, right.” He squeezed her tighter, swaying slightly. “You know, that was the day I fell in love with you.” She knew—he’d told her a thousand times. But it made him happy to talk about it, so she’d listen as many times as he wanted. “The first time I saw you smile.” He sighed happily. “I never thought things would end up like this.” He said it happily, but it was clear he’d accidentally brought up unhappy memories. “If I had been here after the battle… would things have—”

“Stop,” she told him, squeezing his hand. “You won’t get anywhere thinking like that.” She would know. “You’re here now, my hawk, and that’s all that matters.”  
“You’re right.” He swallowed, shaking off the gloom. She caught a grin growing on his face. “Though speaking of reminiscing… if I remember correctly, the ball wouldn't be far from today. One of my greatest regrets was not being able to convince you to dance with me, last time.” Oh no. “So…”  
“I barely remember how to dance,” she complained as he turned, pulling her around with him. Her adoptive father had forced her to learn, but she’d never used it since. “I’d trip all over you.”  
“And I never learned,” he shrugged. That was a surprise, actually.  
“Really? I thought that you gave Hilda lessons for the White Heron cup?”  
“The opposite, actually.” She must have given him a puzzled look, because he continued. “I heard somewhere that teaching is the best way to make certain you know something.”  
“So if she taught you, then why did you say you didn’t learn?”  
“Remember we’re talking about Hilda here, dove.”  
“I…” She didn’t want to speak ill of her friend, but she couldn’t refute his point. “Fine. So then what are we meant to do, if neither of us know how to dance?”  
“We’ll figure it out together, dove. Like we always do.”

It was by all accounts a terrible dance—there was no music, and they kept treading on each other’s toes. Neither of them had much of a sense of rhythm, either. But swaying together as the sun set, the glow of starlight settling around them, the war and its horrors were forgotten, the stress of command, fate, and reality fell away. The only thing they regretted was that it couldn't last longer.


End file.
